


Anything You Want to Know

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 11:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Anonymous requested: "Sometimes when sleep is hard to come by Wynonna and Dolls will play alternating 20 questions in the dark of their room."





	Anything You Want to Know

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I got this prompt in my inbox, I immediately started writing it despite already being in the middle of another fic! This fic turned out a lot more humor-based than I originally planned it to be, but it was a lot of fun to write especially after how grim most of the scenarios we saw Wynonna and Dolls in canon were. Besides, it's impossible to write Wynonna and not include quips, and some of these quips are impossible not to run with! To the anon that requested, I hope you enjoy because I certainly enjoyed writing it.

    “Are you awake?”

It’s too dark to tell, but Wynonna would bet twenty bucks Dolls is rolling his eyes at her. The bed squeaks as he shifts beside her, and they’re not quite close enough to touch but she feels the skim of his pajama pants against her bare leg, a feeling that wasn’t there a second ago. She’s taking that motion as a yes.

    “Wanna play twenty questions?” she asks, keeping her voice as quiet as she can, though she’s not sure quite why; she knows she isn’t sleeping anytime soon, it’s downright impossible. 

Dolls considers snarkily mentioning that he knows more than enough about her after last week’s encounter — he had walked in on her putting in a tampon and instead of ushering him out of the room, she’d honest to god angled her hips towards him and asked, “does it look like it’s in all the way enough?” like he would know. She’d made fun of him for reacting so viscerally (like any man  _ wouldn’t  _ be shocked to be confronted with that sight when he merely expected to brush his teeth that morning), especially given the amount of time he’s spent voluntarily in the same area, but it’s not even remotely the same thing, he had told her repeatedly.

Instead, not wanting to bring up that memory, he huffs out a laugh and says, “are we ten years old?” 

He doesn’t object, though, and Wynonna doesn’t need any further prompting. 

    “If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?” she asks.

    “To sleep,” Dolls responds, and Wynonna swings her arm blindly in the dark, aiming for a nudge on his arm but presumably hitting his chin instead when he mutters an  _ “ow.”  _ She mumbles an apology back and then rolls over so that she’s facing him and therefore more aware of where his body is in relation to hers. The clock on the bedside table had blared red so intensely that its numbers still linger on the back of Wynonna’s eyelids whenever she blinks, and she presses a hand to her forehead in hopes of relieving the brightness. 

    “That’s not the answer I was looking for,” she groans in retaliation to Dolls’ utter buzzkillity. Buzzkillity definitely isn’t a word, but Wynonna’s too tired to think of a proper synonym and quite frankly, it fits him. 

    “If I could go anywhere…” he muses, considering his answer seriously now, and Wynonna finds herself eager to know his choice. Her eyes have adjusted to the dark a little more now, and she can see the vague outline of Dolls’ face as he thinks. 

    “Australia,” he announces finally. 

    “Why?” she asks.

He shrugs. She feels his shoulders move beside her. 

    “Always wanted to go. Always wanted to see a kangaroo and a koala and an ostrich.”

    “There are ostriches in Australia?”

    “Must be,” he says, and Wynonna lets out a chuckle at this. “Why wouldn’t there be?”

    “Were you one of those weird kids who had an obsession with an equally weird animal?” she asks, and he doesn’t have to say anything, she already knows the answer. 

Dolls is quiet, calculating a response, but Wynonna starts laughing before he can even try to defend himself so he gives in and laughs too, deep heaves that make him forget how restless he is.

    “That’s a low blow,” he gets out between bursts of laughter, “to say a kid was as weird as the animal they liked.”

    “Am I wrong though?” Wynonna replies. “It actually explains a lot.”

This time he’s the one to shove her. “Go to sleep, Earp.”

    “Don’t you think I would if I could?” She says, then sets a considerate hand on his forearm. “Listen, if it makes you feel any better, Waverly had a peacock obsession when she was in third grade.”

Dolls shakes his head. “Nope. That’s rational. Especially for Waverly, that’s a completely rational, sensible fixation for a child to have. Ostriches? Not so much.”

Wynonna laughs again, even louder this time. Waverly and Nicole can probably hear her down the hall but she could care less; besides, it’s payback for all of the unholy times they’ve woken her up. 

    “Dude, I’m gonna milk this forever. You should have known better than to tell me something like this.”

Dolls sighs. “I should have.”

    “Hey,” she says, sliding closer to his side and slinging a leg lazily across his. “This is what you signed up for when you decided to date me.” 

The words come out sweetly, but Dolls knows Wynonna’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat.

His right hand finds the skin just below her knee, the other settling behind his head. 

    “I stand by my decision,” he says, voice more hushed and serious than before, and Wynonna swoons a little. Even though she’s used to this kind of subtle flirtation, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever get over it.

She lifts herself up onto her elbow, leaning forward to kiss him. His lips are warm, soft and gentle, and Wynonna shimmies herself a little closer, wanting more. Only when his teeth brush against her lower lip does she pull away and steady herself against his chest. 

    “Did you have a stuffed ostrich?” she asks, the words coming out in a quick breath. Dolls groans, disappointed but definitely not surprised, and nods. 

    “More than one,” he admits. 

    “Oh my god,” Wynonna laughs against his shoulder. “This is the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

They’re both too wired to sleep now, but their game of twenty questions derails almost as quickly as it started, turning into a sort of childhood memory recollection — only happy ones, of course, though Wynonna doesn’t have nearly as many as Dolls does— mixed with a little bit of sex mixed with more laughing about ostriches mixed with a few snacks that Wynonna pulls out from somewhere beneath the mattress, Dolls doesn’t know where. They sleep eventually, though the process of getting there isn’t clear, and as she drifts off Wynonna comments that they should do this more often.

The next morning Dolls lets them sleep in —  just by an hour, because his buzzkillity has always been his biggest strength — and  Wynonna doesn’t even mind that he doesn’t give them two. She wakes up with a purpose: to go online and search for forty minutes (well, spending that much time wasn’t the goal but she got distracted by reading up on the latest Kardashian drama on TMZ) to find the best quality stuffed ostrich to buy him for Christmas. When she’s laughing at her phone instead of eating her bagel and mapping out the afternoon’s revenant hunt, Dolls definitely knows something is up, but when she smiles so brightly and looks at him so sweetly, he can’t bring himself to care. 

When he unwraps the plush animal months later next to the oversized Earp Christmas tree, fit with a tampon angel on the top that makes Dolls shudders every time he sees it, he has to retell the story to Waverly, Nicole, and Jeremy. (The ostrich one, of course, not the tampon one.) He doesn’t care then, either. He kisses the top of Wynonna’s head and thanks her, and mentally curses himself for not buying her something lemon related — later, during that same night, she’d reflected on a phase she went through when she was seven where she ate a whole lemon at least once a day. 

**Author's Note:**

> I miss these two idiots and seeing them together on my TV screen. Siiighh. Come be sad with me about how dirty the writers did them either in the comments or at my Tumblr under the same uername, sweeterthankarma!


End file.
